Everything's better with a naughty picture
by cutiepiehunter
Summary: Silliness where Veronica tries to deal with long distance relationships. Set post movie. Rated for language.


_A/n: Nothing but silliness on this. As someone who spent a long time on Skype and google hangouts, I don't envy Veronica._

"Hey sailor," her voice is teasing as the blurry pixels coordinate to form a picture of Logan.

His answering grin is wry, "not in the strictest sense of the word."

"I would want to be a sailor. All those girls at all those ports," her voice drops to a husky whisper. "Imagine the possibilities." She twirls a strand of her hair on her finger and bats her eyelashes playing the part of a temptress.

A genuine laugh threatens to break through and he nods. "I don't know. Not too many blondes in this part of the world. I'm thinking a little more Kate Upton and a little less Adriana Lima." His eyes don't quite meet hers, but that's another of those things she hates about video chat. You never quite know where to look- and eye contact is minimal if not wholly lacking.

Not that she would ever admit it but she misses looking into chocolate eyes that usually burn through her with intensity. Like she's the only person in the world.

Even if he is fantasizing about girls far more blessed in the boobage department that she is.

She ignores his sardonic remarks. "I think I would like you in one of those sailor uniform things with the hat."

"I would look terrible in a sailor's cap. You know that. There was a TMZ special on what hats look good on me."

"Hey, I never said I wanted you to look good."

Logan stares at her a second and then laughs so hard that he has to wipe tears from his eyes. "I miss you."

Long distance relationships suck.

* * *

"You want me to what?"

"Send me a dirty picture. C'mon, you know want to."

Veronica folds her arms in front of her chest and shakes her head in a vehement no. "Don't think so, buddy."

"Why not?" Logan struggles to keep his voice light. "All the other guys get dirty pictures from their girls."

The word girl gets her attention. She didn't think they were assigning any labels to their relationship yet, but _his girl_ sounds good to her even if it is a little 80s like. She can handle that. She mentally makes note to make it up to him once he gets back. But for now, she'd like to see him sweat a little.

Veronica smiles easily, "well then. All the girls send dirty pictures. Sorry to break it to you babe, but I'm not the girl here."

"I'm stuck in a steel box with testosterone crazed men V'ronica. Fighting heat and loneliness and my girl won't even help with some of my basic needs. Don't you think I deserve a little reward? A taste?" Logan is nothing if not dramatic. But his voice has lowered several pitches, and she feels gooseflesh pimpling the back of her neck.

"Horny men?" Her eyes widen slightly. "You mean all those ripped, sexually frustrated men in a hot steel box, walking around half naked snapping towels at each other?"

Logan touches a hand to his chest in a faux gasp, "Veronica Mars! Don't tell me you've been having naughty thoughts.

"I don't know if I'm comfortable with the government having naked pictures of me."

"The government would keep it classified of course. There's no need to release pictures that would wreck young men for centuries to come. It would be best kept secret," he promises so solemnly that she almost believes him.

Long distance relationships definitely have their moments.

* * *

Veronica's sitting at her desk, netted stocking encased legs propped up on the table. While the red lace corset is practically squeezing the breath out of her, it also squeezes her breasts together nicely; they're almost up to her chin, and she thinks maybe she can give Kate Upton a run for her money. So her feet ache a little from the five-inch stripper stilettos that she bought off of Amazon, but they showcase her legs and ass so perfectly that she knows the look on Logan's face will be worth it.

He has promised to be online in precisely four minutes and she can barely sit still. He wanted a dirty picture but she has something better -something that is guaranteed to make his eyes bug-out. She squirms in impatience when the familiar tone of a videoconference fills the room.

She begins to count to five because hello, no reason for Logan to think she has nothing better to do than wait for his ten minute call but gets to three before clicking the Accept button. Veronica leans back on the chair, making sure to look effortless while the static clears.

Logan's face is on her computer in a matter of seconds, and her breath catches in anticipation. She waits for the shock, the surprise, and the lust but instead is met with nothing but blankness and disappointment.

He can't see her.

Long distance relationships suck.

* * *

She fucking misses him. And she misses fucking him.

At some point after seven tequila shots, she can't quite tell the difference between the two. And it's not just the sex because she misses being near him, smelling him, feeling him…

So she's sexually frustrated.

And maybe she's having more than a few naughty thoughts.

It's probably why she's been so bitchy to pretty much everyone. Mac. Wallace. Her dad. Dick. Except maybe Dick, she just likes being a bitch to him.

But it's definitely why her knees turn wobbly and her eyes nearly pop out of her skull when she takes in a picture of Logan lying supine on a narrow cot, his arm cradling his head wearing nothing but a lazy smile and aviator shades.

_Porno for my girl since she won't send me any._

Long distance relationships are fucking amazing.


End file.
